Tag: writing prompt
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Different
Everything could be done differently. In fact, everything is done differently; that’s the (beauty of the) subjective human experience. But, that’s me ignoring the question. What could I do differently? A lot of things, certainly, but many things are probably so ingrained and unconscious that they’d be extraordinarily difficult for me to do differently. Anyway,…
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A Surreptitiously Obtained Roll of Film (Part 2)
Part 1 Marty plunged onward into the all-consuming dark of the warehouse, his phone’s flashlight doing little but draining battery. Minute after minute passed as Marty crept foreward cautiously, hands and arms extended, careful not to trip over something or bump his head into something. In this fashion, he lost all sense of distance, direction,…
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For the Professor
January 3rd, and my country has invaded another and kidnapped its president. The flame of hope withers within me, and I think back to last time this happened. This coincides with (ever-present) thoughts of rewatching Lord of the Rings. Today happens to be the Professor’s birthday, and I remember the hope the movies kindle, so…
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Playtime
I do play in my daily life. The best evidence of this is video games, which I play to keep in touch with friends. I play saxophone and piano as well, though these sometimes can feel like chores, especially with the initial effort required to commit time to them. Writing is similar. I’m going to…
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Challenges (are good)
My biggest challenges are overthinking and yearning. I’ve been known to be the type to miss the forest for the trees or succumb to analysis paralysis, but here’s the thing: ignorance is a hurdle that needs to be smashed through rather than vaulted over: I’m never going to know everything I need/ought/should know for a…
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Chastity Exercise
No adjectives, adverbs, nor dialogue. Only verbs, nouns, pronouns, and articles. A child sits at her desk, peace enveloping her. She thinks this: the joy and comfort she’d feel snugging into an envelope then traveling the world swaying in a postman’s bag… Before her lies a stack a books: a personal journal, a story journal,…
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Two hippos go to church
The heat wave in the summer of 1954 scalded Boston, Massachusetts like a burn from a hot stove. Those folk in the North End fled their stuffy homes for a chance of a cool breeze from the Charles River or the Harbor, while those in the South End flocked east to the Old Harbor’s beaches.…
The AM Intrigue 